Heber; Records of the Poor; Lays from the Prophets, and Other PoemsLongman, 1811 - Всего страниц: 236 |
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Heber; Records of the Poor; Lays from the Prophets; and Other Poems Thomas Ragg Полный просмотр - 1841 |
Heber; Records of the Poor; Lays from the Prophets, and Other Poems Thomas Ragg Полный просмотр - 1811 |
Heber; Records of the Poor; Lays from the Prophets; And Other Poems Thomas Ragg Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
arms Atalantis Azeta Babylon beams beauty Belshazzar beneath Benoni bittern blasphemy blast blessings blest bliss blood bosom breast breath bright brow burst clash of steel clouds cried curse darkness death deep desolation doom dread dream E'en earth eternal eyes fear fell fire baptismal flood flowers fond gathered gaze grew hand Hark hath heart heaven Heber hope hosts hour Jehovah Jerusalem Juval King of kings King of terrors land light lips looked Lord lost Mariamne mighty morning ne'er neath night Nitsol o'er passed peace praise prey prophet race rapture reign rejoice round rush'd scene seemed shouts sire smile song sorrow sought soul spirit spread stood storm strength sweet sword tears Teraphim thee thine thou thought throne thunder turned Twas unto voice wander watch'd waves wild wings wrath Ꭼ Ᏼ Ꭼ Ꮋ Ꭼ Ᏼ Ᏼ Ꭼ Ꭱ
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Стр. 75 - For as in the days that were before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, and knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall also the coming of the Son of man be.
Стр. 201 - So that the generation to come of your children that shall rise up after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far land, shall say, when they see the plagues of that land, and the sicknesses which the LORD hath laid upon it...
Стр. 201 - God ! from whence proceed such melancholy revolutions ? For what cause is the fortune of these countries so strikingly changed ? Why are so many cities destroyed ? Why is not that ancient population reproduced and perpetuated.
Стр. 60 - The earth is full of love, albeit the storms Of passion mar its influence benign And drown its voice with discords. Every flower That to the sun its heaving breast expands Is born of Love. And every song of bird That floats mellifluent on the balmy air Is but a love-note.
Стр. 177 - Earth hath its cares : for threescore years and ten My lot has been 'midst thorny paths to roam ; I would not track those desert scenes again — "Tis past : I'm going home ! The dove hath found her nest ; the storm-toss'd found A place of rest beyond the dashing foam Of Grief's wild billows, — thither am I bound.
Стр. 16 - And greet the tomb that lets heaven's glories in. Take these, take these to rest ! But smite not childhood in its mirthful play, Snatch not the infant from its mother's breast, Steal not the loved and loving ones away ! Gather ripe fruits, O Death ! Strew not the pathway of the tomb with flowers ; Invade not childhood with thy withering breath ; Pass on ! and touch not youth's bright fragrant bowers.
Стр. 17 - Whose loves have passed upon the morning's wing. Go to the wearied frame That seeks to slumber on the grave's cold breast, That finds life's pleasures but an empty name, And longs to flee away and be at rest. Go to the saints of God Whose souls are weary of the world and sin, Who fain would tread the path their Saviour trod, And greet the tomb that lets heaven's glories in. Take these, take these to rest, But smite not childhood in its mirthful play, Snatch not the infant from its mother's breast,...
Стр. 13 - Spanglets of heaven! Ye seem to me The alphabet of immensity, By which I read, in dazzling light, The lofty name of the Infinite. Shine on ! Shine on ! in your depths of blue, 'Till every heart can read it too, And every raptured eye that's bent Up to the studded firmament, Catches the glow of your ceaseless rays, And glistens in the Eternal's praise. Beautiful stars! 'Neath your rich beams, As down from heaven their glory streams, When silence has sealed up the lips of Earth, And thought, more wild...
Стр. 14 - As enquiring it rushes from pole to pole ! I drink, I drink at your fountain deep While others are locked in the arms of sleep ; Till, filled with the Pythonic draught of light My intoxicate spirit deems all things bright, And earth and its deeds are lost to me Eclipsed by your dazzling radiancy.
Стр. 17 - GATHER ripe fruits, O Death! Strew not the pathway of the tomb with flowers ; Invade not childhood with thy withering breath; Pass on! and touch not youth's bright sunny bowers. There are enough for thee Of hearts that long for thy serene repose, That fain among the lowly-laid would be, Pierced deep with festering wounds that will not close. Go to the desolate, Whom thou...